Chapter 5 - THE SIGNATURE THAT WASN'T MINE
I called Evelyn from the parking garage.
By the following afternoon, she had arranged a meeting with Dominic at a quiet conference room in her office. I agreed to attend only if she remained present.
Dominic arrived alone.
He looked as though he had not slept. His coat was damp from the rain, and the usual precision of his appearance had given way to something more human. His hair was untidy. His tie was missing.
When he saw me, he stopped.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “You look tired.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You don’t get to worry about me as if you’re still my husband.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
Evelyn gestured toward the chairs.
We sat across from each other.
I placed Vanessa’s statement on the table.
“She told me the baby isn’t yours.”
Dominic looked at the paper but did not touch it.
“She told me the same thing.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And you believed her?”
“I believe she’s frightened. I don’t know whether she’s telling the truth now.”
“Neither do I.”
He looked at me.
“But I know this much. I will not let my mother use that child to create another lie.”
I folded my hands in my lap.
“Why didn’t you tell me about any of this?”
“Because I thought I could contain it.”
“You thought you could contain your mother, Vanessa, and your marriage?”
“I thought if I kept things quiet, they would pass.”
“They didn’t pass. You just made sure I suffered without information.”
His eyes lowered.
“Yes.”
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“Dominic, Emma wants all future discussions documented. She also wants financial disclosure related to the family foundation.”
“I’ll provide everything.”
“Without delay?”
“Yes.”
“Then there will be no issue.”
He nodded.
I had expected anger, denial, perhaps even an accusation that I had overreacted.
Instead, he accepted every condition.
That was almost harder.
“Why are you making this easy?” I asked.
“Because I made everything difficult for five years.”
“That doesn’t answer me.”
He leaned back, looking toward the rain-streaked window.
“I used to think love meant being needed. My mother needed me to manage the company. Gabriel needed me to stay steady. Vanessa needed someone to protect her. You needed a husband who could function in society.”
“I never asked you to function. I asked you to be present.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
He looked at me then.
“I heard you every night.”
The words struck more deeply than I expected.
“I heard you talking to yourself when you cooked. I heard you crying in the laundry room once because my mother told you that you were incapable of giving us a family. I heard you call your sister and say you didn’t know how to reach me anymore.”
My throat tightened.
He continued.
“I heard all of it, Emma. And every time, I chose silence because speaking would mean admitting what I had done.”
I looked away.
“What happened to the hearing aids?”
“I wore them when I traveled. I kept them at home so you would believe I couldn’t hear.”
“Why?”
“Because I was a coward.”
There was nothing left to argue with.
Evelyn opened a folder.
“There is one matter we still need to address. Dominic, the transfers to the Moretti Family Outreach Foundation.”
His expression changed.
“What transfers?”
Evelyn slid copies across the table.
He read the first page, then the second.
“I didn’t authorize these.”
“Your signature is here.”
“That isn’t my signature.”
I leaned forward.
The documents showed three transfers made over the previous six months. The amounts were large, each sent from a family investment account into the foundation.
Dominic looked from the papers to me.
“Who has access to the account?”
“Margaret, Gabriel, and me.”
“Your mother can authorize transfers?”
“She has always had power of attorney for family holdings.”
Evelyn pointed to the final page.
“This account lists a secondary administrator.”
Dominic’s brow furrowed.
“Who?”
She turned the document toward us.
The name printed beneath the authorization line was not Margaret’s.
It was mine.
Emma Moretti.
I stared at it.
“That’s impossible.”
Dominic reached for the page.
“Emma, did you sign this?”
“No.”
He examined the signature.
It looked like mine.
Not exactly, but close enough to make my skin prickle.
“I’ve never seen this foundation,” I said.
“Then why is your name on its account?” Dominic asked.
“I don’t know.”
Evelyn turned another page.
“There’s more.”
At the bottom of the transfer authorization was a handwritten note.
Funds reserved for the child’s future.
My hand moved instinctively to my stomach.
Dominic read it over my shoulder.
His face went pale.
The room seemed to contract around us.
Neither of us spoke.
Then Evelyn lifted the final document from the folder.
“It was filed three months ago,” she said. “Before either of you knew about Emma’s pregnancy.”
The document was a beneficiary designation.
The intended beneficiary was not Dominic.
It was not Vanessa.
May you like
It was an unborn child, identified only by a date.
My date of conception.
